The Perfect Child

by Berry, Lucinda

  “Okay, as long as we’re clear on that before we get started.”

  “Definitely.” I cleared my throat. “I’ve been on Janie’s medical care team since she was admitted. I’m the orthopedic surgeon who performed her surgery, and I’ve provided her postoperative care, but at this point, I’m more of a friend than anything. We spend most of our time playing Go Fish—”

  She interrupted, “You’re that Christopher?”

  I laughed. “I guess.”

  “Janie’s nurses have wonderful things to say about you.”

  “Thanks. I can’t say enough good things about them either. She has some great people taking care of her.” I’d never seen a patient with such a strong support team. She had so many people rallied around her. It reminded me why I had fallen in love with medicine.

  “What can I help you with?” Piper asked.

  “My wife is Hannah Bauer, and she’s a nurse at Northfield Memorial. You should be able to look both of us up in the directory. Anyway, we would like to take Janie out of the hospital for a few hours.”

  Hannah left for work early every evening now so that she could read to Janie at bedtime each night. They both loved it. This morning she’d suggested taking Janie to the park down the street from the hospital. I hadn’t thought of it before, but it was a great idea. I’d promised her I’d figure out the protocol and see if we could get permission to take her on an outing.

  “Wow. Janie sounds like she’s in great hands,” Piper said, but I sensed hesitation in her voice. “But I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  I tried not to be insulted. “Can I ask why?”

  “Trust me, I know how badly some of these cases can tug at your heart, but you have to be careful about getting too involved.”

  “I wouldn’t call taking her to the park getting too involved. She’s been in the hospital for almost five weeks, and I’m pretty sure that she’s only been in the prayer garden with her occupational therapist. How much fun do you think that was?” I gave her a second to think about it before adding, “We’re just trying to give her a few hours to feel like a regular kid.”

  Her voice softened. “There’s a lot of variables in this case that you don’t know about. There are—”

  “I understand it’s a complicated case. We’re not trying to get involved in any of that. We just want to give her some time to run around in the sun.”

  “Again, there are risks involved with her case, and you might be putting yourselves in danger.”

  I wasn’t worried about anyone coming back for Janie. I never had been. Whoever they were, they’d given her up because they didn’t want her. All you had to do was look at her body to see that.

  “I appreciate your concern, but we’ll be all right. I just need to make sure it’s okay to take her outside the hospital and to know if there’s any red tape I need to complete.” I had called her out of courtesy, not to ask permission.

  She dropped her voice like someone might be listening. “Listen, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but you are obviously a good person, so I feel like I should warn you.”

  “Warn me about what?”

  “Janie’s mother.”

  No one knew anything about her mother or father. At least that’s what I’d been told.

  “They’ve identified her mother?” I asked.

  “They have.” She gave me a moment to let it sink in before continuing. “Janie’s mother is dead, and the police suspect foul play.”

  “Did you tell Janie?” My head swam with sadness for her. Kids loved their parents no matter how badly they treated them. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair to her.

  “I did.” Her voice thickened with emotion. “I told her this morning.”

  Janie hadn’t said anything about her mother when I’d seen her this afternoon. Nothing was off or different. She was really happy today, asked to learn a new game. Maybe she was still in shock, or maybe it was her way of coping with things. I couldn’t begin to understand her behavior after everything she’d been through.

  “Do they think whoever killed her mother was the same person who hurt Janie?” I asked.

  “Like I said, I’m limited in what I can share because it is an ongoing criminal investigation, but the police are pursuing all possible leads at this time.” She waited a few beats before continuing. “Now do you understand my concerns?”

  I’d spent most of the night filling in Hannah about my conversation with Piper, but she was too distracted by Dylan and Caleb fighting over whose turn it was on the iPad to give me her full attention. We’d been having the boys overnight every month since they were babies to give Allison and Greg a break. A few years back, Greg had told me they’d never actually gone anywhere when the boys were infants. They’d drop them off at our house and go home to sleep.

  “I can’t believe how big they’re getting. It seems like every time I see them, they’ve grown another few inches,” Hannah said. Being an aunt was one of her favorite things in the world.

  She watched them, but I stared at her, still mesmerized even after all these years—the way her porcelain skin shone and the tiny freckles sprinkled across her nose. I stretched my legs out on the coffee table. She’d given up telling me to keep my feet off of it. The battle wasn’t worth fighting. “Not an inch, but technically, their bones grow nine millimeters per day, so they are taller.”

  She slapped my arm. “Do you have to be such a nerd all the time?”

  “Isn’t that what you love the most about me?” I threw my arm around her shoulders, and she settled comfortably onto my chest. I breathed in the smell of her.

  Caleb turned around; a miniature Greg stared back at us. “Dylan won’t let me do this level. It’s my turn.”

  Dylan was hunched over the iPad, gripping it like it was gold. Caleb eyed it hungrily.

  “Dylan, give Caleb a turn now,” I said. Allison and Greg were sticklers when it came to Dylan and Caleb’s screen time. At first, I’d thought they were being too overprotective, but we’d seen firsthand what it did to them. They acted like it was a drug they couldn’t get enough of. I turned my attention back to Hannah.

  “What happens to Janie now?” she asked.

  “Piper didn’t know. Apparently, Janie’s case is a legal nightmare. She said normally the Department of Children’s Services would put her in foster care until they determined a permanent placement, but there are lots of additional steps since her mother is dead and they have no idea who the father is or any relatives. For now, they filed something called an emergency protective order that gives the Department of Children’s Services temporary guardianship while they try to figure this mess out.”

  “Can you imagine all the paperwork involved?” Hannah asked with one eye still on the boys.

  I shook my head.

  “I still don’t understand why they’re keeping her mother’s death a secret,” Hannah said.

  I lowered my voice so the kids couldn’t hear. “She said they don’t want whoever hurt Becky to know that she’s dead. I guess they think maybe someone will come forward if they think she’s still alive? Or trip up in some way?”

  She eyed me nervously. “Do you think we should still go?”

  Our plan was to take Janie to the park behind the grocery store. It was six blocks from the hospital, and we’d chosen it because it was small and private. I’d spoken with Janie’s psychologist at the hospital to see if she thought it would be too overwhelming, and she’d thought it was a great idea but that we should keep it simple and as low key as possible. We’d chosen the park with that in mind since it stayed empty most of the time and because being around other kids was probably too much for her right now. But even though it wasn’t a busy place, it was still in public. I didn’t want to put us in any danger.

  “Piper said if we decided to do it, they’d probably send an unmarked squad car to the park just to keep an eye out for anything unusual or suspicious.”

  The concern left her face. “Well, if that’s
the case, then I don’t think we have anything to worry about. Nothing is going to happen with them there.”

  We stared at Dylan’s and Caleb’s backs as they played together, listening to their giggles and squeals interspersed with the occasional mad shout.

  “It’s all so unfair,” I said. It was the one thing that struck me over and over again about Janie’s situation. None of it was her fault. All she’d done was be born, and we didn’t get to choose our parents.

  “It really is,” Hannah agreed.

  Both of us came from great families. I was an only child, and my parents had given me everything. Dad had worked full time as a civil engineer, and Mom had stayed home to raise me. We’d never struggled financially. The worst thing that had happened to me in my childhood was when our Little League team had lost the state championship in eighth grade. Hannah had had an ideal childhood, too, except she also had a sibling. We’d talked about it all the time during our engagement. It was one of the main reasons we stayed in Clarksville, Ohio—we wanted our kids to grow up with the same innocent childhood we’d experienced.

  But neither of us had done anything special to have such easy lives. We’d just been born into them in the same way that Janie hadn’t done anything to have such a hard one. All I could think about when I spent time with her was how she’d done nothing to deserve what she’d been through. Who was going to make it up to her?

  NINE

  HANNAH BAUER

  “Janie, can you put these on your face like this before we leave?” I asked.

  Janie had limited sun exposure because she hadn’t been allowed outside the trailer and the windows had been covered. The doctors had given us special sunglasses since her eyes were so sensitive to the light. I showed her how to put them on before handing them to her. She twirled them around in her hands like she was still unsure what to do with them. Finally, I just helped guide them onto her face. The sunscreen was next, and Christopher lathered her with so much that we couldn’t rub it all in, but we weren’t taking any chances with her getting a nasty sunburn.

  She plodded along in flip-flops between the two of us, holding on to our hands as we walked out the back entrance of the hospital. She still had a hard time walking upright despite all the work with her physical therapist. She wanted to walk on all fours even when you held her hands, so it felt like we were dragging her along, and I was glad Christopher had brought our car around earlier. Janie waved and smiled at all the nurses we passed, excited to leave the hospital even if it was only for a few hours. I was glad we’d stuck with our plan rather than letting fear make the decision.

  One of the valets was waiting by our car when we got to the east exit. He hurried to open the doors when he spotted us. Allison had lent us an infant car seat because Janie was too small for a booster seat. Christopher had taken it to the fire station the previous Saturday to make sure it was installed properly.

  “No! No! No!” Janie screamed, shaking her head wildly when I tried to set her in the seat. She arched her back and kicked defiantly. I tried to hold her down, but she bucked against me. I didn’t want to use force because I was afraid of hurting her, so she easily wiggled free from my hold. She toppled onto the sidewalk, howling. Christopher and I knelt beside her. I reached out to touch her, and she jerked away.

  “Honey, we really want to take you to the park and play, but you have to get in the car.” Christopher’s voice was calm and steady. He pointed to the back seat. “That is a car seat, and all kids ride in car seats. It’s the safest way for them to ride in the car.”

  She scowled at us.

  “Do you want to go to the park?” I asked. I felt like such an idiot for not considering how hard it might be for her to be restrained given her history. I made a mental note to be more conscientious about her past in the future.

  She nodded.

  I reached out and rubbed her arm briefly before putting my hand back passively at my side, not wanting to frighten her any more with my touch. “I bet it’s really scary for you to be locked into a car seat.” Her lower lip quivered. Tears filled her eyes. I reached forward and grabbed the passenger-side seat belt. I gave it a sharp tug, pulling it toward us. “See this belt? Everyone in the car has to wear one.” I pointed to myself as I spoke. “I’m going to drive the car, and I have to put my seat belt on too. How about if Christopher sits in the back seat with you? Would you like that?”

  She shook her head, but Christopher ignored her protests. He crawled over her car seat and sat in the spot next to it.

  “See, it’s not so bad,” he said, patting the car seat. “Why don’t you let Hannah put you in your seat? I’ll be here with you the whole time. We can ride together.”

  She looked back and forth between us. We stood there in silence for a few more minutes before she finally got in. I clipped her into her seat and jumped into the driver’s side, eager to leave before she threw another fit. She stuck her lip out in an angry pout, but after a few blocks, her face transformed as she stared out the window. She pointed to everything. “What’s that? What’s that?” she called out as we drove. She did the same thing whenever I read to her. I loved giving her words for the new world she lived in. Christopher and I took turns trying to figure out what she was pointing at while we drove.

  The park was only a short drive from the hospital, so it wasn’t long before we pulled into the parking lot. Christopher worked on getting Janie out of the car while I grabbed the cooler and bag from the trunk. I’d never been on a picnic with so little food. Usually I packed way too much, and half the food ended up going back home with us, but we could only give her safe foods, which meant our picnic was limited to greek yogurt and pureed peas. I’d gotten her menu approved by her dietician. We’d brought along our own spoons to eat the yogurt and pureed food with her so she wouldn’t feel different. Christopher had come up with the idea, and I thought it was brilliant.

  “Janie!” Christopher suddenly yelled from in front of me.

  She was headed through the parking lot and straight for the street. He took off running faster than I’d ever seen him move. He scooped her up in one swift movement and cradled her next to him as he walked back through the parking lot. He was still breathing hard when he got back to me. She buried her face against his shoulder, cradling herself in the nook of his collarbone. He looked petrified. I rubbed her back.

  “I only took my eye off her for a second,” he said breathlessly.

  I rubbed his shoulder with my other hand. “It’s okay. It happens. Remember what it was like with the twins?” The boys had been full of so much energy when they were toddlers and had had no sense of danger. They’d always been taking off—and never in the same direction at the same time.

  “If we can handle the twins as toddlers, we can definitely handle her,” he said, trying to sound convincing, but we both knew this was completely different than the twins.

  I motioned for him to take her to the playground equipment. “Go play with her. I’ll set this up.”

  I found a shaded spot underneath a tree and spread out the blanket, enjoying being outside. Spring was so unpredictable, but it was perfect weather for a picnic in the park. I sat on the blanket, taking a minute to soak in the sun. There was nothing better than the feel of the sun on your skin after a long winter. The winters got harder the older I got, and each year, I understood more why people moved out of the Midwest after retirement.

  I watched as Christopher went down the slide with Janie tucked between his legs and his arms wrapped around her. She squealed with delight. He’d been right about how amazing it was to watch her. She was beaming with happiness, the crisis from moments ago already forgotten.

  “Again! Again!” she shrieked at him each time he pretended to be too tired to play anymore.

  I’d never seen Christopher look so childlike. For the thousandth time, I felt the pain of everything I couldn’t give him. He had always done such a good job of being there for me—holding me while I cried, bringing me flowers, and ass
uring me that we were still a family even without children—but I knew it hurt him too. He wanted kids as much as I did. He’d never understand how hard it was for me not to be able to give it to him even though he tried to be strong at all times for me. I pushed the thoughts aside. No need to spoil a beautiful day.

  Playing with Janie at the park was so different than playing at the park with Caleb and Dylan. She had no idea what anything was and took it all in, wide eyed. She moved like a young toddler, unsure of her footing, and her balance was always slightly off. She didn’t know how to climb anything, and we helped her through most things. Christopher had said that her physical therapist gave positive reports on Janie’s progress and was working hard at rebuilding and strengthening her muscles, but she had a long way to go.

  What would happen to her? Would she be able to make up for the important things she’d missed in her development? Were there other kids like her? Did traumatized kids ever recover? I couldn’t help but share Christopher’s sense of responsibility to Janie. How would we know she went to a good home after she left the hospital and not one of those awful foster homes I’d read about in the news? Or what if she was too difficult for a family to handle and ended up becoming a kid who was raised in the system, shuffled around from home to home? What if she became a drug addict or prostitute?

  We couldn’t let that happen to her. There had to be something more we could do.

  CASE #5243

  INTERVIEW:

  PIPER GOLDSTEIN

  “What did you think of the Bauers when you met them in person?” It was Luke’s turn to ask questions now. Ron had pulled a chair into the corner and was leaning back against the wall, arms crossed on his chest, staring at me.

  I folded my hands on the table in front of me. “It was obvious from my first meeting with them that Chris already had a tight bond with Janie. She never left his lap and didn’t speak to anyone except him. She whispered the answers to my questions in his ear, and he acted as her interpreter.”